hear me out vampire x vampire hunter ffxv au.....
nyx is a vampire, his village was attacked. His mother was killed but him and his sister were bitten but they managed to get away.... but his sister couldn’t handle it...so she didn’t make it.
Nyx was struggling but he could control his urges, he was actually taken in by a vampire hunter, Regis. He is head of his clan...he knew Nyx was a vampire but took him in anyway because he saw the potential. It came with its ups and downs but Nyx became in debt to him and promised to watch over his son.
Nyx watches over Noctis to keep him safe and out of trouble, which comes with its troubles because its Noctis we’re talking about... He has prompto and the boys to get him in/out of trouble.
poor nyx has his work cut out for him, god forbid its a new moon...and thats when he has to go away from everyone because his urges get alittle wild. He also suffers with trauma from his village and sister too... oof
aside from angst, vampire nyx acting as a vampire hunter and body guard to protect Noctis. And he has to fight other vamps, werewolves and other dark entities...but he prevails.
sliding in my oc because reasons,
she’d be a vampire hunter/ mercenary, she was tasked with kidnapping the prince for money. She was bored and had nothing better to do so she accepted it, course she didn’t count on running into nyx.
They crossed blows and she found out he was a vampire, of course she lost their little battle and was locked up. He later comes and questions her, why didn’t she snitch on him.
she simply states that would be a dirty win, she could have done that....but she likes fair fights. though human to vampire fight...isn’t really fair.
stuff happens and she gets a chance to redeem herself, but she’s warned and she blows it off. Noctis’s home is attacked and things happen.. Noctis is taken and Nyx’s little secret is blown..but not by her.
so thus begins a quest of nyx, my oc and few dorks as they try to retrieve noctis.... Oh yeah prompto has collected a shite ton of garlic and stakes so just incase nyx tries something he’ll stabby stabby.
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no but changing v's age to a tiny little baby* was silly and it was extra silly to give both female and male V the same birthday, because i see them as totally different characters with different personalities. and them having different birthdays was a nice addition that kinda highlighted it. like of course everyone can make their own V and roleplay as any kind of character they like, but i think the voice acting (english version) and romance options do paint a certain type of base for their personalities.
male v is a man in a man's world and he has to act like one in order to fit in and to survive. he has to have this cool tough guy act on, but sometimes it breaks, and you can find out what he really is feeling (for example talking to vik after the heist or the scene with skye/angel at the clouds). his romance options are both pretty big and wild personalities, and vincent in comparison to them is almost like more of a calming presence. but he does happily go along with both panam's and kerry's shenanigans.
female v is a woman living in a misogynistic world and that pisses her off. she is quick to anger and doesn't try to hide too much what she is feeling. if someone has an issue with how she expresses herself, then that's their fucking problem. to balance this, her romance options aren't as wild as panam and kerry, and they both offer a certain kind of domesticity to valerie. judy wants to move in with her immediately after their first time having sex (like a typical lesbian lol), and river is a family man and you can't make him leave his sister and her children. valerie's sex scenes are also less crazy and more "serene" and traditional than what vincent gets (a tank and a burning yacht).
some of these differences are also probably due to some underlying sexism in the writing (woman being more emotional, man getting wilder partners and so forth). but i still like that there are differencies. and when you add the three different life paths, you can get some nice variety to this pre-written character.
*i'm being overly dramatic because i myself am "old" and also a bit of a clown.
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🌹🌹🌹 Can we see a little snippet of one of those cuddles Jamie gets in wriggle up please please please? :D
one THOUSAND percent. this is more than a 'little' lmao but. we know how i work around here.
this is from the fallout of the 2x08 debacle in wriggle up on dry land, after they've taken jamie home from the hospital.
cw for direct references to injuries caused by abuse.
Despite the late hour and despite the exhaustion making him feel like he’s been coated in lead, Ted doesn’t go to sleep right away. He changes into his pyjamas and then sits up on top of his still-made bed, leaning against the headboard and reading a book. Well. ‘Reading a book,’ insofar as ‘staring at the same page and not remotely processing any of the words on it for minutes at a time, occasionally flipping a page out of pure instinct’ can be considered reading. At this point, Ted doesn’t even remember what the book is, just that it had been sitting next to his lamp and it was better than grabbing his phone, what with all the anxiety-inducing crap that thing tended to contain at any given moment. It’s because of this avoidance of actual sleep that Ted notices immediately when the door down the hall opens.
Closing his book and setting it off to the side, Ted watches with a light frown as Jamie exits the spare room - his room, and starts down the hall. His posture is reluctant and closed-off, moving like he’s coated in the same lead that Ted is, and he makes the trip slowly. It’s hard to tell if the lethargic pace is due to pain or something else, and the thought makes Ted’s heart skip a beat.
When he reaches the doorway to Ted’s room, Jamie hesitates outside of it. The pause only lasts for a moment and then the boy is walking across the threshold and directly over to the side of the bed. Jamie is silent as he crawls up onto the mattress to Ted’s right, laying down facing the wall with his arms folded over his chest and going very, very still.
Book now entirely forgotten, Ted looks at Jamie and waits for him to say something, to reveal what it is he came here for, what he needs or wants. Nothing of the sort happens. Jamie doesn’t do anything at all. He doesn’t get up and leave but he doesn’t move any closer to Ted either. He doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t make a sound. Jamie just lays there, facing the wall, curled in on himself and motionless - and putting all the pressure squarely on his bad shoulder, too. It has to ache something fierce, even with the painkillers the doctors sent him home with.
Ted’s heart hurts in his chest looking at him - literally. It literally, physically hurts. He watches the boy for a while, unsure what to do, his sternum throbbing and worry heavy and thick in his lungs. Jamie still doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything or move at all, though he’s too rigid to have fallen asleep. His arms are tucked tight against his chest, giving the impression of someone who is holding himself in a mimicry of someone else doing so.
That’s the thought that finally prompts Ted to take some kind of action. He can’t bear it any longer, watching the boy there and knowing that he needs something but not knowing what, and so he reaches out. The hand that he settles on the stiff crest of Jamie’s shoulder is slow and cautious, not wanting to do the wrong thing and spook or hurt the kid. All Ted gets in response is a muted, suffocated flinch - one he knows by now is far from an actual indication on its own that Jamie doesn’t want to be touched. There’s a subtle pressure against Ted’s palm that confirms the suspicion, even as Jamie’s body shudders with a laboured, tremulous breath - Jamie is leaning back against the hand on his shoulder.
Doing his best not to jostle either of them, Ted slides down the headboard a bit, pillow bunching behind him to create a support for the new, no longer upright angle. With gentle pressure and an abundance of care, Ted slips his hand from Jamie’s upper shoulder down to the other one, the one jammed into the mattress. He pulls at Jamie gingerly, guiding the kid around to face him and cross the gap between them, ever mindful of the pain he must be in, even still. Ted can’t stop seeing it in his mind: the permanent mental image of Jamie’s whipped back, the wounds now hidden by his shirt. The inescapable and acute awareness of the welts, the broken skin, leaves Ted as cautious as if he is handling spun glass as he curls an arm around Jamie, settling the boy in against his chest.
Jamie goes readily and without a hint of a fight. He leans himself fully into Ted’s side, his forehead pressed against Ted’s collarbone, though his hands stay tucked up in fists between them, not reaching out or holding on. Ted can feel the fabric of his shirt warm with Jamie’s heavy, ragged breaths. He isn’t crying but he is shaking, trembling all over and breathing like he’s just run a marathon as he lays, boneless and almost desperate, against Ted.
Normally, it’s a struggle for Ted to keep quiet. He doesn’t handle silences well and he never has, but this is an exception. It’s not that he enjoys the silence, really, he finds it just as disconcerting as he always does, but his brain is empty of things to say. So, because he can’t think of anything and because Jamie isn’t talking either, he doesn’t say anything at all. Ted just cradles him, holding the kid as tight as he dares to when the increase in pressure only prompts Jamie to press closer in turn, and thinks about how still he’d been when he first laid down - still and silent, facing the wall.
Jamie had not asked for this. He hadn’t reached out to be hugged, or asked to cuddle, or anything of the sort - and of course he didn’t. He had just laid there on the bedspread next to Ted, getting as close and taking as much as he dared.
It’s devastating to think about. He’s a kid. He’s just a kid, just sixteen years old, and Ted remembers being that age with a sharp and vivid clarity. Sometimes he wishes that he didn’t, but he remembers, and when you’re sixteen and something terrible happens to you, something annihilating happens to you, sometimes you need your mom or dad to hold you. And isn’t that something that Jamie probably has all but no experience with, huh. Not when his mom’s been gone for years and his dad- Well. Suffice to say it’s no shock he hadn’t been able to ask for what he needed, ask to be held.
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